Winning the Heir Who Bullied Me novel Chapter 196

Chapter 196

LUCAS POV

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33

They’ve all lost their goddamn minds.

The PR reps and members of the legal team sit across from me in tight black suits, talking like this is a board meeting and not the fucking apocalypse.

Their mouths keep moving, but all I hear is gibberish–until one of them repeats it, for the fifth time.

“Lucas, this is the only path forward.”

“It’s bullshit. Find another path.”

“There is nothing else.”

I lean back in my chair, seething. “You want me to say I’m mentally unstable.”

“We want you to get ahead of the narrative,” Madeline says slowly, like I’m some idiot who didn’t graduate from Harvard with top marks. “To show remorse. The media frenzy is out of control, and this is the only way to salvage the Ashford name.”

Salvage. The word makes me want to laugh. Or smash something.

My fingers curl into the armrest as I glare at the script they’ve handed me. An apology. Carefully worded, designed to admit ‘past misconduct stemming from untreated intermittent explosive disorder,‘ whatever the hell that is, ‘with promises to seek rehabilitation and step away from public life to focus on healing.‘

Healing? From what? Being humiliated by a bunch of vindictive whores?

“I’m not reading this.” My voice comes out low and sharp.

Madeline doesn’t flinch. It seems like she’s suddenly grown a backbone–she’s forgotten that it was her fuckup that put April fucking Farrah in my line of sight to begin with–and she just crosses her legs and tilts her head like I’m a stubborn child refusing to eat my vegetables. “I’m sorry, Lucas, this isn’t negotiable.”

“You don’t get to tell me what’s negotiable.” I slam the paper onto the table and rise. “You think I’m going to stand up there and admit to crimes? To sins I didn’t even commit?”

“You didn’t?” says another rep–Alan, I think. “Because the footage of you says otherwise. The other girl’s video is viral. There’s no version of this where you walk away clean.”

The word girl makes my skin crawl.

Gracie. That desperate, dramatic brat. She should’ve been grateful. She was nothing until I touched her–just another social climber desperate to find relevance by marrying into affluence.

I gave her that relevance. And this is what I get?

And April–sweet little stupid April. Playing innocent, like she didn’t practically beg for attention.

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Chapter 196

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Like her little show at the wedding was some righteous act of bravery instead of revenge because I got her kicked out of college.

I had let her go. I was fucking done with her; she was the one who approached me with that little stunt in the bridal shop.

If I ever see her again, I’m going to snap her neck.

Then there’s Lara. I should have known there was something feral under that composed surface. I’ve spent years perfecting my mask; I should have been able to detect that she was doing the same.

That’s on me. I underestimated her.

Well, congratulations, Lara. You’ve made yourself an enemy for life.

I rise out of my seat, agitated as I pace the room, jaw tight, trying not to punch the nearest wall. Or Alan.

Preferably Alan.

Everything’s crumbling. And the worst part?

My father sees it.

33

He hasn’t spoken a word to me since the meeting after the catastrophe of a wedding. No lectures, no backhanded praise, no “I’m disappointed in you“-just that fucking blow.

My face still burns–but not with pain, with the sting of humiliation.

My father only ever reserved that kind of discipline for Nathan.

Nathan. That pathetic worm. He doesn’t even bother to hide his pleasure as he watches my world crash around me.

The fucking spare. I bet he’s holding his breath, waiting for the moment he can swoop in and take what’s mine.

I won’t forget this. Any of it.

The press conference is set to start in twenty minutes, and I’m supposed to read this garbage like a trained dog. Apologize. Cry a little. Blame my behavior on a diagnosed condition. Like I’m sick, Like I’m broken.

I am not broken.

I’m the heir, the face of this family. I’ve worked too hard for too long to let it all be reduced to ashes by three fucking bitches.

“You will read that statement, Lucas.” My head snaps in my father’s direction, my eyes widening as he speaks to me for the first time in three days.

“Dad-”

I pause, a commotion outside catching my attention.

It starts outside the green room, in the press area. A hush, then a buzz, then a wave of motion that floods the hallway like an incoming

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20:54 Mon, Oct 20

Chapter 196

tide.

“Something’s happening,” Alan says, stepping toward the door.

Madeline is already scrolling through her phone, fingers twitching. “I’m getting…alerts. Dozens of alerts.”

Then someone bursts through the side door–a junior intern, red–faced and panicked.

“They know,” he blurts out.

“What the hell does that mean?” I snap.

“They–someone leaked everything.”

The room falls still.

[ବ 33)

Madeline looks up, her phone shaking in her hand. “Emails. Documents. Financials. Everything’s hitting the press live.”

“Everything?” my father asks from behind me. I didn’t even notice him rise. “What the hell does that mean?” he repeats my earlier question with a shit ton more venom.

The intern shrinks under Samuel Ashford’s gaze, but manages a shaky nod. “Tax records, wire transfers, off–shore accounts, bribery documents, blackmail evidence, NDAs with escort services, mistresses, political favors–everything.”

A silence heavier than death settles over us.

I grab my own phone and tap into the live feed of the conference.

Reporters aren’t seated anymore. They’re standing, shouting, phones up in the air, flashing screens displaying inboxes full of exposed corruption.

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